


The Potter's Seer

by Spellmugwump



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Complete, Daily Prophet, Death Eaters, Divination, Fame, Female Harry Potter, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Death Eaters, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I hate Peter Pettigrew, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Loving Parents, Mild Language, Non-Linear Narrative, OFC - Freeform, One Shot, Original Character(s), Prophecy, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Protective Siblings, Rebirth, Redemption, Reincarnated Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Seer Harry Potter, Self-Fulfilling Prophecy, Sibling Love, Siblings, female Harry Potter/Regulus Black if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spellmugwump/pseuds/Spellmugwump
Summary: Harry is reborn as Penny, younger sister of James and famed Seer. While trying desperately to make the world a better place for the Harry yet to be born, Penny finds life, as usual, complicates things. COMPLETED.
Relationships: Harry Potter & James Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 311





	The Potter's Seer

**The Potter’s Seer**

* * *

**Age 7—November 1967**

The memories did not come at once. She grew with them—with memories of dodging saucepans sitting comfortably alongside the light sweeping of baby hair from her forehead by her mother. She became used to flashes of him; she sorted them and matched them up with her own as if she were crafting a photograph album.

Harry Potter and Penny Potter were the same, but Harry’s life was a story read and loved and half-forgotten years before. Penny’s was still being written. And Penny knew things that even Harry Potter hadn’t.

Her parents called her a seer. She was young, and had only mentioned how much she enjoyed the treacle tarts at Hogwarts in passing one night. She spent much of her childhood with a rather fluid grip on past, present and future.

Fleamont and Euphemia had exchanged a glance at the dinner table, but said nothing. James, older than her at eight and therefore imbued with the appropriate wisdom, called her stupid.

And then the news got out because she asked where the Nimbus 2000 was in _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ , and it all unravelled from there.

* * *

**Age 14—December 1974**

When Sirius appeared, it was Penny that opened the door. She had known he was coming, of course, and he knew she would too. He did not look surprised to see her.

‘All right,’ he said. There was a neat cut in his cheek that bled sluggishly and he shook badly. He looked more worn than she had ever seen him, and the phantom of her past life drew him into her arms. He stood stiffly, not reciprocating out of either discomfort or his grip on the muggle rucksack on his back. But she knew he was grateful because when she withdrew his eyes shone.

‘Do you want me to get James?’ Penny asked softly. She stood aside and gestured for him to shuffle inside. Even though he had been in this house countless times, he looked around as if he had never seen it before. Perhaps, Penny thought, he was looking at new home.

Sirius swallowed and he looked so much like his brother Penny’s breath caught. Confidence did not come easily to Regulus.

‘I think—could I just—’ Penny nodded. They walked to the kitchen together and she began boiling the kettle.

Looking at Sirius over a mug of tea and in the light of the kitchen, Penny saw the dips in his cheeks that had never been there before. She saw a heaviness under his eyes and in them too. She felt a simmer of fury when she saw how awkwardly he moved his right arm, and though she did not always see eye-to-eye with him, she always was, and always would be (she knew, she had seen it) incensed by the idea of adults harming children.

Sirius spotted her narrowed eyes. ‘Please, don’t.’ He shook his head and swilled the mug of tea and then looked back at her. ‘Have you known for long?’

Penny knew he was asking the extent of her knowledge. Her gift extended only to her family. They had discovered as such rather gruesomely when she was nine.

‘I knew you would turn up on the doorstep today,’ she offered, ‘but that’s all. Not how, or why.’

Sirius nodded. He looked relieved.

Later, when she snuck him upstairs and into the spare bedroom, she clapped him firmly on the back. He held a set of James’ pyjamas between his hands. ‘It was about time.’ She said. ‘You deserve better.’

She did not see Sirius’ answering face, for she turned and closed the door on him as she mourned for the brother he had left behind.

Early the next morning, James jerked awake, tangled in his duvet. His face was flushed in horror. ‘Penny!’ He shouted as she looked on in amusement. ‘You can’t wake a bloke up like that! Merlin’s balls!’

Penny was standing at the foot of his bed like a ghoul. She grabbed his ankle and pulled it hard. ‘Get up. I have a surprise.’

‘Get your bony little mitts away from me,’ James grumbled, but shoved his glasses on anyway and slid out of bed inch by inch, shivering.

They walked down the hallway, a great-great-aunt glaring suspiciously at them from her frame all the while. James turned to his sister with a frown. ‘Is this one of your visions?’ He asked. ‘Are you using it for a joke again, you know mum told you to stop doing that—’

‘Oh shut up,’ Penny rolled her eyes. ‘He’s in there.’

The door swung open, and Sirius’ eyes fluttered blearily open. He had buried himself under the covers and was barely visible. ‘Ugh,’ he groaned.

‘Padfoot!’ James said loudly, glancing between the two. ‘When did—wait!’

‘Sirius ran away from home last night.’ Penny explained, quite unnecessarily because of the bag and the clothes littering the floor.

James gawped at her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘You know I’m not allowed.’

‘This is hardly the next World Cup results! You know that’s not what they meant, it’s hardly world-changing—sorry, Sirius, you know what I mean.’

‘No, no, carry on,’ Sirius said, burrowing further into his pillow, ‘I’d like to reflect on my disownment in peace, anyway.’

When Fleamont and Euphemia saw him, they smiled sadly and offered him toast. They did not seem surprised, and Penny knew this was because they had been anticipating this moment for a long time, even if they weren’t the seers in the family.

* * *

**Age 7—May 1968**

Where Sirius had run from his family, Penny had been taken from hers.

Seers were rare at the best of times, let alone one who was so very accurate in her predictions. She had first thought, privately, that it was Harry’s life she knew. Even as a small child she thought it best to keep that to herself. But then she knew her mother would be ill for Christmas one year, and her father would singe his left eyebrow off one Easter. And Harry had never known either of them.

Of course, the sharper predictions were always the ones she had already lived. But the world didn’t know that—nobody did except her.

‘Mummy,’ Penny said one day as she watched her mother garden, ‘I’m going to marry a Slytherin.’

Euphemia turned to her daughter, all round light eyes and dark hair. She was only seven.

‘Well, it’s always good to have a nice mix of houses in the family.’ She said and went back to her tulips.

* * *

**Age 9—January 1971**

Penny woke to dark surroundings with her face pressed into something hard and cold. She was nine years old and scared.

She was left for quite a while in the dark. Her eyes struggled to adjust, and when they did, they saw only grey stone and dust.

‘There’s our little seer.’ Came a voice hidden behind the violent glow of a long candle. Penny, paralysed by fear, did not move an inch. She watched a companion materialise with a light of their own.

‘You’re going to make us a lot of money, girl.’ The first man said, leaning close. He made Penny cringe at the smell hovering around him.

Of course, she couldn’t force herself to regurgitate useful information. At nine years old, there was no doubt she would have given them any useless fact to bet on. But they had certain opinions on Blood Traitors like the Potters, and she had always thought, looking back, that they just wanted to hurt someone. They were, it turned out, very irritated at how they had been treated by some of the higher-up Death Eaters. Torturing a nine-year-old would make then worthier to Lord Voldemort. Somehow.

They took her little finger, and that was the worst of it, but somehow it took longer than her hand to recover. Her privacy never came back; she was public property for good.

* * *

**Age 11—December 1972**

Penny met Regulus Black properly at the Christmas Slug Club party. They were both eleven years old and very out of place; they could not yet appreciate the boundless access to free alcohol. Naturally, they shuffled against a wall in unison.

Sirius, who had disappointed both his family and Slughorn by being sorted into Gryffindor, was gleefully cavorting about the room charming everyone in sight. He was only a year older than Penny and his brother, but at eleven a year is a magnitude. James was not there—he moaned endlessly about it, but Penny never complained back at him because she knew it wouldn’t be long before he caught Slughorn’s eye. Then, of course, he would moan about attending.

Regulus’ eyes followed his brother swimming amongst the crowd. When an especially tall woman laughed uproariously at something Sirius said, Penny turned to him. ‘He’ll grow up in a few years. Properly.’

‘How d’you know that?’ Regulus asked suspiciously.

‘He’s my nephew’s godfather. In the future, I mean. But him and my brother have a bit of a shock soon. Well, in a couple of years.’

The clouds in his eyes passed, and Regulus looked at Penny appraisingly. His eyes flickered down to her missing finger, but she gave him credit for not lingering there. ‘You’re that seer. Potter?’

‘Penny.’ She replied, offering her hand with a bright smile.

‘Regulus Black. Um—I was wondering. Can you—?’

‘Sorry,’ she interjected quickly, ‘but it only works for me or my family. Or who will be my family. I get glimpses of my friends sometimes, but nothing important for them. That’s it.’

‘Oh,’ he said. He looked a little downtrodden. Penny immediately started on cheering him up. She didn’t mention how she hadn’t seen him for the first time at the sorting, but instead as he was drowning in a dark, black, pit of a lake that made her sick from the foul smell of it. Alone.

* * *

**Age 9—January 1971**

_POTTER’S PROPHET: LOST AND FOUND_

_Daughter of Fleamont Potter (potions pioneer and innovator of such household brews as Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion) was stolen from the family home on the night of 1 st January despite extensive protections on the property. Miss Potter has recently taken the spotlight for her prodigious divination abilities and has been hailed as the next Cassandra Trelawney by the Society of Future Events and Blunders. Mr Potter and his wife are reportedly delighted at their daughter’s return on 6th January but have not yet provided the _Daily Prophet _with a statement. A Ministry spokesperson commented: ‘Miss Potter has been returned safe and well to her home thanks to the tireless hard work and effort of the Auror Office. The Ministry cannot confirm any further details until the relevant parties have been questioned and notified. Now you’re not the only paper I’ve got today so if you could just—’… see more on page 5._

* * *

**Age 10—September 1971**

Penny took James aside as the train was leaving for Hogwarts, when he was eleven. ‘What house will I be in?’ He asked eagerly. Penny rolled her eyes.

‘I’m not going to tell you, don’t be stupid.’ It was Gryffindor, of course. He had a talent for getting his way.

‘You’re going to be friends with a werewolf, but you have to promise to be nice. And not tell anyone else. Okay?’

James’ eyes turned large. His mouth fell open a little.

But still, he nodded, and gave her a quick begrudging hug before jumping onto the train and sailing away from them into the smoke and steam.

Penny’s dad’s hand landed on her shoulder at once and began steering her towards the exit. They had become very overbearing. Fleamont’s hand never left her.

* * *

**Age 18—May 1980 & Age 9—March 1971**

When Penny finally received the letter she knew was coming, she reviewed the same day again and again until it drove her mad. It was insignificant in the span of time she had spent with her parents. It did not feel quite fair to dwell on something so separate from their greatness as people—but being orphaned was not fair, either.

It began with Euphemia Potter’s voice.

‘Darling. Time to get up.’

Penny’s mother shook her a little. Bleary eyed, she took in the soft lamp at her bedside, the gloom filtering through the early morning and the sad smile her mum always seemed to wear then.

Penny groaned and rolled away. ‘We’ve even got breakfast on the table.’ Euphemia said softly. ‘We’ll be speaking to the Seer today, remember? Madam Lockwood?’

Just an hour and a half later, Penny found herself sitting alone opposite a strange woman. Her hair was bundled back, blonde and dead straight. Her fringe lay limp on her forehead and she wore large round glasses that dwarfed her face. She insisted on being called Pythia, not Madam Lockwood, and Penny quite hated the assumption of familiarity. Already, she felt patronised.

‘I hear you spent some time with some very bad men last month.’ Pythia smiled in a way she likely thought was warm and motherly, but instead was vaguely threatening.

‘They were Death Eaters.’ Penny said bluntly. She looked over to the round side table and saw a large, ostentatious crystal ball.

Pythia saw her stare. ‘A gift, from President Quahog. I assured him of his election win.’

‘Didn’t he win against that man who thought Muggles were really lizards?’

Pythia narrowed her eyes and Penny tried hard to look innocent. She thought about how nervous her parents likely were, waiting in the room next door. They didn’t like to be separated from her now.

‘How is your hand?’

Penny glanced down. It was still bandaged. ‘It’s all right. I think they thought they were being kind, to take it from the left. But I’m left-handed.’

‘Some cultures consider left-handed people gifted. Or cursed. How do you feel about that?’

‘I thought I was here to talk about seeing the future?’

Madam Lockwood leant back on the sickening periwinkle sofa and smiled. ‘You _are_ a determined child, aren’t you?’

Penny was frustrated. ‘That is why I’m here, isn’t it?’

‘Your parents have asked me to talk to you about your gift. To help you; perhaps become a mentor.’ She surveyed Penny from the top of her nose; Penny was very obviously at the bottom of it. Her voice lowered to a hush that was meant to be mysterious. ‘Though I must confess, Penelope… I see darkness in your future.’

Penny’s respect for Madam Lockwood had been very low from the moment they met. It only slipped lower when she called her Penelope. And now, a fruitless prediction such as this, as if Penny had no idea what was in her own future, was not a seer in her own right…

Penny felt angry, but wanted to seem quite bored. She took a sip of vile, cold tea. ‘Good for you,’ she said, ‘so do I. I sort of thought it was something to do with the fact I’ve already been kidnapped by Death Eaters, though.’

The meeting wrapped up shortly after that.

With James in the garden, Euphemia and Fleamont stared at their daughter across the kitchen table. ‘I don’t like her and I won’t see her again.’ Penny said. She felt a little desperate.

Her parents exchanged a look. Penny watched her father’s eyes close. ‘I mean it, dad!’ She insisted. ‘She was full of herself—’

‘Penny, we don’t mind if you don’t see her again,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Really.’

‘Oh.’ She assumed, after all the effort to get Penny in a room with Madam Lockwood, they would be irritated with her. Even if they had been cautious around her and her bandaged hand recently.

‘We just wanted to help you find your people, darling,’ Penny’s mum said. She reached out to hold her husband’s hand who took it without seeming to notice. ‘It must be so hard, being the only one with your gift. We don’t want you to feel alone.’

Penny was confused. ‘Mum… you _are_ my people. You and Dad and James.’

‘Thank you, pumpkin,’ said Penny’s dad, ‘of course we are. We’re always here for you. We just wanted to make sure—’

‘I don’t feel lonely,’ said Penny. ‘I don’t feel sad that you can’t see the future. I don’t know what it’s like to _not_. I don’t need people who can, especially if they’re like her.’

For a long moment Penny thought she had been too aggressive. She was a shout first, beg for forgiveness later kind of person. Her parents often bemoaned her brashness; it never helped that James found it funny when she was accidentally rude.

Penny’s dad bit his lip. Her mother looked as if she was near tears. ‘Penny,’ she said, ‘you will never know how precious you are to us. You and James. We never thought we would have even one of you, let alone two. We will do anything, anything at all, to make your life better. And after what happened…’

‘I don’t need it to be better, I like it how it is.’ Penny sat straighter. ‘I’m not with those Death Eaters anymore either. I just want everything to be normal again.’

‘All right,’ said Fleamont. ‘We’ll get back to normal soon enough, Penny. We’ll all try. But that doesn’t mean you get to stop having appointments with your Healer—’

‘ _Dad_ —!’

And so Penny begrudgingly went to the Mind Healer every week, and her parents tried hard to give her freedom while showering her with just as much love as they always had. James started irritating her again. Penny knew for sure things were the same as before the Death Eaters when, after their first proper argument, James only apologised because their parents forced him.

* * *

**Age 16—June 1977**

The last Hogsmeade weekend of the year arrived bright and crisp. The sun warmed them even if a wind still rolled around the hills and mountains. Laden with sweets to last the summer (or possibly until the end of term) and the odd joke shop buy, Penny and Laurie slumped in in a window seat of The Three Broomsticks. They glared at any who dared try and steal their remaining seats. Penny felt the hiss of anticipation; she knew exactly what was about to happen.

‘You don’t have to pay me back for the Butterbeer,’ Laurie said generously. ‘Take it as a birthday present from me.’

‘It’s, what, the fifteenth? Only two days late this time, congratulations. I should be buying you the drink.’

Sighing, Laurie reclined in his seat. His Ravenclaw tie flapped in the gust of air sent from the door opening. ‘One day, I shall be appreciated properly in this world. No sarcasm. No biting commentary. No—’

Penny spotted the students that had just walked in. ‘Shut up, Maggie and Euan are here.’

They both waved and when Euan noticed Laurie’s tie, he lit up. ‘Laurie the lemon! Why on earth are you wearing your uniform?’

Laurie mumbled something as Maggie grinned manically. ‘What was that?’ Euan boomed. ‘Was that you admitting you _did_ steal my work as a joke and thought you would get away with it? Was it?’

Maggie gasped in horror. ‘You didn’t— _no_ —get a detention, Mr Wallace? With lovely old Professor Sprout?’

Euan and Maggie paused and then glanced at each other. Laurie attempted to defend himself as they dissolved into giggles. ‘Shut up, Botts,’ He said sulkily.

‘And this is where I leave you,’ Penny said as she excused herself from the table. Promising to bring more Butterbeer from the packed bar on her return journey, she started to the loo. She drew her wand.

When she stepped inside, she felt the immediate cold rush of magic. She didn’t bother actually using the toilet, but instead began washing her hands just like she had been close to her vision’s end. Sometimes she liked to quicken things up.

And just like that, the vision was realised when Bellatrix Black emerged disdainfully from the left-most cubicle. Now it was just Penny and the present. No useful guide from now on.

‘I do hope you didn’t assume you had the element of surprise, here.’ Penny said drily, refusing to look up. Bellatrix gave a shrill laugh in response.

‘You insolent child,’ she said with an unsettling edge of fondness, ‘if you weren’t a Seer the Dark Lord would have murdered you and your blood traitor family in your beds years ago.’

‘Aren’t I lucky. Haven’t you already tried that?’ Penny shook the water free of her hands violently and turned off the taps.

‘Those imbeciles would never have been trusted with such a task. Even I can admit they were exceedingly lucky.’ Bellatrix grinned like a shark at her missing finger, then continued. ‘I have a letter for you from the Dark Lord himself. He requests a meeting.’ She drew it from her cloak with a flourish. Penny couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been perched on a loo seat just for this moment. For the glory of the cause, indeed.

‘I see.’

‘He is merciful… he requests reason from you. To consider the power you hold.’ Penny grabbed the towel from the wall and began weaving it through her hands.

‘Merciful, indeed.’

‘You know the war will not last for much longer.’ Bellatrix said sharply. ‘Our Lord’s followers grow every day. He offers a privileged chance to you, and you alone—’

‘Privileged!’ Penny could no longer hold in her anger. She pointed roughly to Bellatrix’s forearm. ‘To have that shit on me, forever! Since when is recruiting teenagers a sign of victory, Black?’

‘My name is Lestrange now, you little mudblood-lover!’ The insanity fogged her eyes now. ‘Half of Hogwarts has seen the truth, has joined our Lord—even my pathetic little cousin—’

With a spark of magic, the letter from Lord Voldemort flew into Penny’s hand from Bellatrix’s. The writing was spidery and light; it seemed to barely deign to touch the parchment at all. Bellatrix smiled; she saw that she had touched a raw nerve. But before she could say anything, Penny drew her wand to the corner of the envelope.

‘ _You_ _dare_ —’

‘Don’t come near me again,’ Penny hissed as the parchment caught alight, ‘I will never join him, do you understand me? _Never_. Keep away from me and keep his letters away. I’ll burn them and I’ll burn _you_.’

‘You’ll lose more than a just finger when my Lord learns of this!’ Bellatrix shrieked as she walked away. The door slammed. Penny didn’t notice Regulus’ pale face just beyond it, shadowed by an alcove.

‘Ta,’ Euan said as Maggie and Laurie made agreeing noises around their mug. Their table was cluttered with double portions for them all. They wouldn’t have to move to the bar for a while.

‘I’ve just been propositioned by Voldemort.’ Penny said brightly.

All three of her friends stared. Laurie choked a little on his butterbeer. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised,’ Maggie tried weakly, though her face was dour.

Euan looked at her incredulously. ‘What a load of—’

‘You probably shouldn’t say his name anymore,’ Laurie said as Euan and Maggie bickered. ‘I’ve heard he’s putting a taboo on it.’

* * *

**Age 13—October 1974**

Useless, Penny thought. Utterly useless.

She knew it would never be a good idea to take Divination as an option. (She didn’t _know_ in her usual way of knowing, but she probably should have.) What could she learn, really? Her gift had never used instruments like the skies or stupid crystals. Tea leaves told her nothing except she preferred to use teabags.

Professor Maudley was hardly helping matters. He seemed to be in competition with her… he was simply overjoyed when she misread Euan’s lifeline during their recent palmistry lesson. All the other students she had the lesson with—Gryffindors like her and Ravenclaws like Euan—stared in bafflement at her failure to perform.

After Potions, instead of making her way to Maudley’s dingy classroom in a horrible little corridor just off where she had Charms on the third floor, Penny’s feet had taken her up, up, up to Dumbledore’s office.

‘I need to speak to the Headmaster.’ She said to the Griffin. She tried hard to be polite, but the aggravation in her voice was desperately hard to hold back. She wanted to kick the statue after it stared at her for a long minute—but to her surprise, it merely shook its head disparagingly and began turning.

Feeling very lucky indeed, Penny made her way up the stairs. Sudden feelings of nervousness tingled her fingertips. Should she not have gone to Professor McGonagall for something such as this? Did Dumbledore, member of countless societies and committees, really need to be bothered with her?

By the time she was at the door of the study, Penny’s confidence had dwindled to ashes. Any anger she held shrivelled and died so completely she wanted to turn and run faster than a Garden Gnome. But—

‘Enter.’

Sheepish and abashed, Penny sidled into the office. She had been there only once before when she was eleven.

‘Hello, Sir.’ She said meekly. Dumbledore smiled behind his desk. Fawkes the Phoenix chirped in greeting.

‘Miss Potter,’ he said warmly, ‘I was under the impression you were in your Divination lesson.’

‘Er—’

The Headmaster chuckled. ‘No need to explain. In a school like this, word manages to get back to even the deafest of ears. I assume you wish to change subjects?’

Penny, cynical as she had always been, doubted there had been gossip as to her arguments with Professor Maudley. She had no doubt Dumbledore was keeping a close eye on her because of her talent; just as the rest of the adults in her life did.

‘He just—he tells me I’m wrong all the time, even though he’s never seen further in the future than what he’s having for dinner! And I can’t read palms of tea leaves, so what? Maudley, he’s just—’

‘ _Professor_ Maudley, Miss Potter.’

Penny scowled at Dumbledore before she could stop herself. Luckily, he took it well.

‘It is very hard to see someone so young with the very thing you have studied for years, I imagine. Even worse to see they do not appreciate it the way you believe they should.’ Dumbledore held his hand up at Penny’s protests. ‘Professor Maudley cannot have your gift. None of us can; it is yours and yours alone. But it is a particular struggle for him. He does not especially like young witches, either. An incident when he was young, I believe, which has left him somewhat jaded.’

Penny’s brain was buzzing lightly. She felt foggy. ‘It’s never done me much good.’ She said stubbornly, trying to blink away the unease in her body.

‘You will come to see it as the gift it is in due course, I am sure.’ Dumbledore peered at her over his spectacles. ‘Now, tell me. Onto better things and lighter conversation. Which subjects would you like to consider changing to?’

‘I’m sorry to come to you, Sir, I didn’t think,’ Penny was mumbling now. She thought she might be swaying. ‘I quite like the look of Arithmancy… James, he took it…’

‘Miss Potter!’ Came Dumbledore’s sharp voice as she drifted off.

The next thing she saw was his glasses. In a fit of déjà vu, she reached for them like a Snitch. She was always fond of playing Seeker.

‘Sir?’ She asked groggily. Her hand went to her head and she felt cold sweat. It was as if she had woken from a very long, very deep, sleep.

She had never seen Dumbledore so awfully pale. He looked shaken. It was wholly unnerving to Penny, to whom he had been infallible… untouchable. His eyes were usually warm and twinkling with some unknown mirth; now they belonged at a funeral.

‘I apologise, Miss Potter,’ he said gravely as she got to her feet and slumped into a chair, ‘you have quite shaken me.’

‘What have I done?’ Her head felt as if it were full of condensation. She hoped it was nothing terrible.

He contemplated her. When he spoke, he selected his words as if they were made of porcelain. ‘You have just delivered a prophecy. Has this ever happened before?’

‘Oh,’ she felt numb, ‘once or twice. Nothing big. What—uh—what was this one?’

Dumbledore looked at her with a shine in his eyes. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘I have written it down.’

Still shaking, Penny took the parchment.

_She lives two decades and two lives; this time she leaves one dead, one alive... seven to be birthed if the single survives, fire’s kiss to kill them, snake’s curse to die… thrice to defy but just one chance to live… five in number before twins’ begin… in failure the world drowns in fate’s stead, in victory the arm reaches out instead…_

‘Well… they’re never normally that poetic,’ she said.

* * *

**Age 15—January 1977**

Maggie Cubbins’ puffy frame blocked the light of the fireplace. ‘Penny!’ She hissed, prodding her shoulder. ‘Penny—it’s suppertime!’

‘Go away, Maggie,’ Penny grumbled. She closed her eyes tight. She was disappointed because there would be no steak pie for dinner tonight. And since that was what she was craving, she didn’t see the point.

‘Please, I don’t want to run into him by myself, I’ll never think of anything to say!’ Rowan Tomlinson, a tall Ravenclaw with almond eyes and dark skin, was the object of Maggie’s—rather intense—affections all over the Christmas holidays. Penny knew it wouldn’t last.

‘Honestly,’ Penny said as she found the strength to pull herself up from the armchair. Maggie grinned.

‘I wish you’d tell me what our wedding will be like,’ Maggie chattered, just as usual, all the way down from Gryffindor Tower. ‘Oh! What about our children! Twins? I’m sure he has twins in his family, weren’t some of his cousins in seventh year when we first came? Or had just left?’

‘Maggie, you know I can’t tell you a thing.’

‘Yes, but _still_ —’

Penny knew they wouldn’t get married. She knew Maggie wouldn’t have twins. Visions of her future had only just begun filtering into Penny’s mind, and only on the cusp of sleep at that. Perhaps her gift was becoming stronger; her hunches came true more often in the last couple of years.

Stomach dropping, Penny stopped dead. Maggie’s face immediately crumpled into concern as she asked her what was wrong.

‘I’ve got to be in the library.’

‘What for?’ Her blue eyes were round she spoke in the special hushed tone reserved for seer things.

‘I don’t know. I’ve got to have a look in the Muggle Studies section.’

Maggie nodded so abruptly her fringe went wild. ‘Tell me after—just go! I’ll save you some Treacle Tart if there is any.’

Penny felt a surge of love for her friend; always compassionate, brilliantly laid back. She thanked her and drew her into a quick hug—she was far more tactile in this life. Perhaps it was the effect of James jumping all over the place when they were small.

Compulsions were rarer now she was close to adulthood. It made them all the more frightening. She expected James on the brink of death, a dark letter from her parents, news of a Death Eater attack.

Mind whirling she walked quickly to the library. The halls were deserted for dinner was in full swing. When she arrived, the quiet was peaceful, like an exhale—it was supposed to be silent here, where the halls were meant to be jostled and scuffed with noise.

Penny had never been to the Muggle Studies section. She did not take it as an OWL, and had never had any questions about muggles that she couldn’t ask a friend or her parents. The titles were brand new to her as she stared around, worried she was being lulled into a sense of false security.

Then she saw the obvious reason she was here.

Regulus Black was sitting in the window seat at the end of a towering, narrow corridor. Penny felt vague surprise to see him here, given his recent inclinations. He usually cropped up in her visions, but he fluctuated so much in mood and opinion they didn’t often mean much. She was left with the barest of milestones.

‘Reggie,’ he started violently, head whipping about wide-eyed. He relaxed when he focussed on her.

‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘Charming.’ She sat next to him and snatched the book from his hands before he could try and hide it. _How They Do It: Modern Muggle Transport from 1940 to the Present Day_.

‘This is a bit niche for you, isn’t it?’ Penny frowned. Regulus’ cheeks turned pink.

‘I was just interested.’

‘Regulus Black, interested in—’ she incredulously glanced at the page he’d been reading, ‘—the concept of bus timetables?’

‘As if you know anything about them either,’ he replied sulkily, ‘you’re just as pureblooded as I am.’

At the mention of blood, neither of them wanted to continue. Penny shuffled her feet and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. The anger was there too, in the back of her head and simmering away. But it was Regulus, and she knew him.

After a minute of awkward silence, he eased the book from her hand softly and moved in front of her to place it back on a high shelf. As he did so, his school robe slid up. Penny saw countless bruises beginning midway up his forearm; blotches of sickly greens and vivid purple. One was so dark it seemed black.

She couldn’t help it: she gasped. Regulus looked at her with his brow crumpled before he realised. His eyes widened and he shoved the sleeve back down. He began walking away in a panic.

‘Oi!’ Roared Penny. Regulus turned and shushed her urgently, eyes spinning around nervously.

‘If you keep walking away I’ll shout louder, and then who knows who might see you with a _blood traitor_. And a Gryffindor one at that.’

‘There’s nobody here except us.’ He looked around them uncertainly even still.

Penny’s hand went to her hip. ‘Not so sure about that, are you?’

They glared at each other in a stand-off. Penny would never let him leave now she had seen his arm and he likely knew that. She felt furious that she had not foreseen this event; they had returned from Easter a week ago now. If she had been able to send a letter… visit, perhaps…

Regulus sighed and went back to his seat—where he had left his schoolbag, anyway—and Penny sat next to him.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He said. His voice was low. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

‘Who did this?’ Penny ignored him.

‘Don’t make me say it, Penny. Especially when you already know.’

Disgust was hot in her throat. It scalded the words that left her mouth.

‘Why won’t you leave?!’ She demanded. Regulus shrank away and flinched at her tone. Perhaps it was harsher than intended.

‘It’s not that easy. You know it’s not that simple.’

‘I know. I do. But—if Sirius—’

‘ _Don’t bring him up_!’ Regulus hissed. Now it was Penny’s turn to edge away from him. ‘This is all his fault!’

‘It’s not his fault and you know it.’

‘It is. There’s only so many times you can get angry and bully a house elf before it gets boring. He left me there, in that— _house_. With _them_.’

‘Come to my house! They can’t keep on doing this—my parents, they’ll—’ Desperately in the face of the same conversation they had repeated again and again, Penny reached for the hand of his that was closest. It was skinnier than she remembered. Paler, too.

The thing about Penny’s gift was that it was tied to people close to her, or those that would be. So if it was defined by proximity of emotions, physical closeness would always help it along.

So when Penny’s fingertips touched Regulus’ left hand, a vision flashed behind her eyes. She was used to the shock of it, and so did not snatch her hand away in surprise—or at least, that wasn’t why she did it. The reason she did pull away was far worse than that.

‘ _No_ ,’ her heart thundered. She could have turned to lead.

‘What did you see?’ Regulus asked quickly. No matter who it was, family or stranger, when they thought Penny had seen the future a childish excitement crept into their voices and their hearts.

‘You’re joining him,’ she whispered, ‘you’re actually going to—oh Reggie, no!’

Regulus was speechless. He stared at her with eyes so purely grey they looked silver. ‘No I’m not.’

She knew he was saying it by instinct. He was trying to salvage whatever had now broken between them. Hunches she could control, was able to alter and influence. But no matter what, her visions always came true.

‘I’ve seen it—that _Mark_ ,’ she was angry, so angry, at his parents, at him, at Lord Voldemort and the world. ‘You’re waiting, aren’t you? Until you’re sixteen? To have the _honour_ of it.’

‘What do you expect?’ Regulus said loudly. ‘With my parents? My family? I’m a _Black_! It’s expected—’

‘To have the Mark, Regulus?! To have that stain, forever? If you were bothered, if you really cared, you wouldn’t be part of his _fucking_ inner circle!’

‘You couldn’t understand, never, the Dark Lord—’

‘ _The Dark Lord_!’ Penny shrieked.

This seemed to be too much for the librarian. She rounded the corner with a reddened face, scowling deeply. ‘Shouting! In the library!’ she said shrilly, approaching them like a predator.

‘Don’t worry, Mrs Parish. I’m going.’ Penny stood abruptly. She felt tears beading in her eyes and knew Regulus saw them too.

‘Penny,’ he said gently. She ignored him.

* * *

**Age 18—November 1979**

Most eyes in the room looked at her with great interest. She had been known to most people for almost a decade, and yet it was unnerving now. Since her parents had died, there was an unspoken comfort and protection missing that she simply couldn’t put her finger on.

Lily stood next to her, so close their arms touched from shoulder to wrist. It was comforting. They gathered in the Weasley house tonight—Arthur had just laid his twins down to sleep. Apparently the Order of the Phoenix was nomadic; James had started quietly insisting on using their parents’ house now it was only Penny skulking about.

It was oddly warm with everyone cramped together, but even that didn’t stop the frost creeping in. Even Dumbledore looked a little chilly, wrapped up so well it comfortable under all that hair and bright material. Euan had decided he couldn’t come on the basis he would never be able to think in the cold; she had left him after lunch lying face-down on his living room floor.

Holding a mug of tea, Penny saw the deference offered to the Headmaster as he began speaking. She felt uneasy with one person having so much power over a room.

‘You will notice we have a new addition in our midst,’ Dumbledore said as he gestured to her. ‘Miss Potter will surely be a valuable member of our organisation, not least for her particular abilities.’

‘The Seer—how interesting!’ Said Alice Longbottom from a corner. She was smiling brightly, though Penny noticed a few people shifting and looked uncomfortable. Not-yet-Mad-Eye Moody looked especially displeased. Penny comforted herself by remembering he would lose his eye soon.

In the meantime, she smiled weakly at the room to be polite. James was staring at everyone else with suspicion.

It was all rather bleak. They discussed for about an hour with very little input from anyone Penny knew personally. Sirius piped up occasionally, as did James—Remus looked quite terrified every time they did.

Eventually the conversation rounded to recent Death Eater activity. Fabian Prewett was concerned—there had been odd movements around his home recently and the sudden, unexpected house move of their close muggle neighbours.

The name tickled something in the very recesses of Penny’s mind. She knew immediately it was a Harry memory; her visions now had much more clarity, which was a stark reversal from her younger years. She wasn’t sure whether she was sad or not, that Harry was slipping from her.

She looked at Fabian closely as he spoke as well as his brother, trying to glean something else—and glanced down at her watch. Different than Harry’s by far, but helping to jog her memory all the same.

‘Penny, what is it?’ Lily asked, clutching her wrist. ‘Is it—’

‘You’re in danger if you stay there,’ Penny blurted out as much to her surprise as the rest of the room. ‘you’ll be attacked.’

‘Er—’ Gideon said, looking around uneasily.

Dumbledore looked at her with great interest. ‘Who will it be?’ He asked.

‘Um—Dolohov, I think.’

‘You think?’ Moody said loudly. ‘I thought you knew these things?’

‘Oi—’ said James, shifting.

‘If you want to risk their lives because you can’t be bothered to move them to a safe house, then by all means do it,’ Penny said sharply. ‘But I, for one, don’t want to see it.’

Sirius laughed somewhere to her right.

After the meeting, when the stares had died and everyone grouped together to make chit chat in various degrees of awkwardness, James and Lily pulled Penny aside.

‘God that was great,’ James said immediately. ‘Moody needs that sometimes.’

Lily nodded sagely.

‘Well, you’re welcome,’ Penny looked at them both closely. ‘What did you want to speak to me about?’

A strange atmosphere rose between them. Penny looked across the room at Remus, Sirius and Pettigrew laughing along together. With a jolt, she wondered—was he already selling them all out?

‘Lily’s pregnant!’ James gasped, breath leaving his mouth in a hurry and cheeks reddening in excitement. ‘We haven’t told anyone, we only knew for sure the other day and it’s been torture and—’

‘Honestly, we thought you would already know, James was convinced you were going to show up and tell us off for not telling you right away, and we were actually sort of surprised you weren’t the one to tell _us_ —’

‘Wonderful!’ Penny said over them both, beaming. ‘I mean, of course I knew, but—oof!’

James pulled her into one of his rough, tight hugs. He had not done so since their parents’ funeral.

‘I hope I’m Godmother,’ Penny said, still smiling.

James rolled his eyes. ‘You’re already their aunt, you can’t be Godmother too, that’s just greedy—’

‘James!’

‘—but, alas, against my better judgment, you are anyway.’

Lily pushed her husband hard. ‘If you can tell us anything about them, Penny…’

Penny could; of course she could. And while she had grown laxer with how much about the future she divulged to others, this child was a secret she had to keep.

‘Absolutely not,’ James and Lily sighed. ‘I’m not tempting fate by telling you what they’ll look like’— _black hair, green eyes, glasses—_ ‘or—or what House they’ll be in’— _Gryffindor, of course_ –‘or if—’

‘You know their House!’ James said shrilly. People turned to look.

‘Ooh, _Penny_ —’ Lily began with great interest before jumping in surprise; she was staring over Penny’s shoulder.

Dumbledore was hovering soundlessly behind Penny with a benign smile. He was amused at their collective surprise; bitter about it, she briefly and considered a rude comment.

‘I do apologise,’ he said, ‘but I was hoping to catch you, Miss Potter, before you leave.’

Penny felt as if she had been sent to his office in school. James and Lily bobbed a little, beginning to shuffle away from the conversation James put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. ‘Come round to ours after, yeah?’

Nodding, Penny turned to face Dumbledore fully. She had felt uneasy around him ever since the prophecy; he seemed to be assessing her at every turn.

‘Just a simple favour, Miss Potter,’ Dumbledore began, ‘Professor Maudley has recently taken me quite by surprise. He has taken early retirement.’

Penny was thrilled. She couldn’t help it; her face lit up. He seemed amused.

‘I wonder if, perhaps, you could aid me in some interviews I shall be conducting next week for the position. It is rather hard to judge the credentials of an applicant when their affinity is so rare and, well—so difficult to prove.’

* * *

**Age 15—June 1976**

They had finished their fourth year exams and the sun was bright in respect of the occasion. Penny, Maggie, Laurie and Euan basked in the warmth as they wondered down towards the lake.

Penny thought about her results, annoyed she had not seen the question papers themselves—that would have been far more useful. She had seen her marks, and knew she’d performed averagely. She did, however, know James had done fabulously well in his OWLs and was pleased all the attention would be on him as a result.

‘What’s going on over there?’ Euan asked abruptly. They all stopped to look—in the distance were raised voices and a cluster of students. Noise swelled around them, though Penny couldn’t hear what exactly it was. She had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach as soon as she saw the crowd.

‘I just wanted to listen to my new record,’ Laurie said mournfully as Penny led them in a charge across the grass. Maggie told him to shut up.

Dread filtering through to her fingertips, Penny saw James with a raised wand. He was half-way through an incantation. She saw Snape wrapped in conjured ropes, and saw her brother’s face morph into spite and ugliness, so opposite to who he was it made her sick.

And then the look was gone, but only when he saw Penny stomping over, thunderous expression chiselled into her stony face.

‘ _Finite_!’ She shouted. Snape fell to the ground with a heavy thump, rope disappearing. ‘What’s this? Why are you doing that to him?’

‘It’s Snivellus,’ Sirius said. He seemed to think that fact alone explained everything. Penny glared at him as Maggie muttered about how nobody was doing anything.

She ignored Pettigrew’s red face and Remus’ stuttering apologies, who had clearly been trying to ignore it all by pretending to read his book—at least they had the decency to be ashamed. Sirius and James only doubled down.

‘Four against one, is it! You _bully_ , James—’

‘You didn’t hear what he said yesterday!’ James’ face was turning red. ‘Spouting all that rubbish about Voldemort being right—!’

‘What, and you do that to everyone you suspect of being a Death Eater do you? How thick do you think I— _get off Euan!_ —it’s pathetic, always going after him, I don’t care what he says to you!’

‘He gives as good as he gets!’

Snape was picking himself up off the ground, a pinkness to his cheeks at the crowd staring at him as he did so. His eyes darted around him before focussing on Penny and her loud voice.

‘I don’t need your help,’ he snarled.

James looked outraged. ‘ _Don’t talk to her like that_.’

‘I’ll talk to your little freak however I want to!’ Snape spat.

Remus and Pettigrew lunged to grab the back of Sirius’ cloak, but nobody stopped James surging forward. Penny had a funny buzzing in her ears, ever since she was referred to as James’ and heard the work _freak_.

‘POTTER!’ Lily Evans had appeared from thin air to stand in front of Snape. ‘Don’t you _dare_! Leave him alone!’

James was craning to see around her, his wand still drawn. Snape had found his missing wand, too. With a flash and a red bang, James’ blood splattered onto his shirt collar; he had a gash across his cheek.

James immediately tried to hex Snape—viciously, judging by his murderous expression—but Lily’s own wand slashed through the air, shielding Snape from the spell.

‘I don’t need help from Mudbloods like _you_!’ Snape shouted. There was a mortified hush.

Lily blinked.

‘Fine,’ she said coolly. ‘I won’t bother in the future.’

James stared at Snape for a moment. Penny was suddenly very apprehensive.

‘Apologise to her,’ he said quietly. He gripped his wand with bright white knuckles.

‘I don’t want _you_ to make him apologise,’ Lily shouted, rounding onto James. ‘You’re as bad as he is.’

Penny knew things would only escalate at that. She was shocked she had not foreseen this, or that she had forgotten Harry’s desperation when he had come across this very scene. She looked desperately for a professor but knew there were none around. The echo of Harry that lived within her was flooded with shame.

‘James, go.’

‘Did you hear what he said—!’

‘I’ll get McGonagall to kick you off the Quidditch team for good! I know I can—I’ve _seen_ it!’ Penny shouted the lie directly into his face. ‘LEAVE!’

She didn’t want to look at him anymore. He was one of the kindest people she knew, and now she hated him more than anything.

Penny looked at the crowd that had gathered, sniffing out the raised voices and promise of a duel. They withdrew at her glare and shout, and shuffled away muttering about revision or how big the giant squid looked in the sunlight.

Snape she left on the grass, uncomfortable with their proximity when she had so carefully avoided him before. She was ashamed of it now; faced with the realisation that she had avoided Snape in order to escape James like this, rather than her discomfort with who he might become.

Penny looked to Maggie, Euan and Laurie. They stared at her with sad eyes and she knew they would give her space, now. They had become used to accepting her oddities, and this was one of them.

Lily was staring at the grass. The friend she was with had approached cautiously, standing in awkward silence next to her. Penny took Lily’s hand, and she looked up.

‘Let’s go.’

They went to the kitchens. It was a sombre journey; neither of them spoke and the halls were deserted in favour of the sunshine. Penny took her hand and led her down, the dungeon coolness seeping into their bones and their anger.

The elves were overjoyed to see them and immediately set about creating a sumptuous cream tea. Lily’s eyes were wide; she had not visited the kitchens before.

‘I’m sorry about my brother.’ Penny said over her tea. Lily looked uncomfortable. ‘He’s an idiot. But I know he gets better. Hopefully today will help him realise. That or getting a Howler from mum and dad will.’

Lily’s lips quirked up. She looked at Penny inquisitively. ‘How can you know for certain? With your… gift, I mean.’

Penny considered. ‘I’m not sure. Everything I’ve seen has always happened. Sometimes not quite how I assumed, but the image never changes. I suppose we don’t have much choice in our lives, after all.’

‘That’s…’

‘Grim? Completely shit?’ Penny smiled bleakly. ‘If it helps, I know you’re going to get very good OWLs scores.’

‘I thought you only had visions of people you’re close with?’

Apparently, Lily paid more attention to James’ loudness than she was letting on. Penny shrugged and then smiled conspiratorially. ‘I suppose we’ll be really good friends soon.’

Lily laughed properly, and started buttering a scone. As the butter melted into the warmth, Penny decided she really quite liked her sister-in-law. Certainly more so than her brother at that time.

* * *

**Age 18—November 1979**

‘Thank you for joining me,’ Dumbledore said as they sat awkwardly in room above the Hog’s Head. ‘Professor Maudley certainly left without much notice. At the beginning of a new school year, at that.’

‘It’s no bother,’ Penny said. She felt very generous for saying as much. Of course, she was vindictively pleased Maudley was out of a job—but nor had she imagined interviewing a potential candidate at the ripe age of eighteen.

Trelawney quite obviously had none of the talent of her relative. Penny knew this within the first ten minutes of meeting the woman; nobody put that much effort into dressing like a Seer if they had nothing to prove. She was also visibly irritated by Penny’s presence. It did not help her plight.

Penny had felt tense the second she entered the situation; her time as Harry was vague and she knew the drop of dread was because of him. She’d lived a long life as Harry Potter, and the memories of his formative years were harder to remember now she had her own memories to fit alongside them.

Dumbledore had caught her nervousness; the paranoia bounced out of her. He cast strong privacy charms around the walls and door; her hands did not stop shaking until he assured her nobody could listen in with a soft half smile.

Trelawney had hidden herself away in the small toilet attached to the room; Penny assumed the woman was scared to finish the terrible interview she had started.

‘Reckon she’s going to emerge any time soon?’ Penny asked, not able to help the smirk crossing over her face.

Dumbledore shook his head and sighed. ‘I believe we will be here for a little while longer. Perhaps some refreshments are in order… any requests, Miss Potter?’

‘A butterbeer, please,’ Penny said trying to avoid sounding too eager. She was very pleased he hadn’t called her Penelope—James had confided to her how edgy it made him when Dumbledore referred to him by his first name.

‘I shall pass it on to Aberforth,’ Dumbledore smiled.

Penny looked around the room, bored. It was sullen and threadbare. The table they sat at wobbled on wonky floorboards. She was sure the bar would be visible through a certain gap in the floor if she looked through at the right angle.

Enraptured, she started when the toilet door banged open. ‘Madam Trelawney!’ She shouted. ‘I—sorry, Professor Dumbledore’s gone downstairs for some drinks. I think he’ll have got you the same as before? I could run and check—’

Deep, rasping breaths were drawn from the woman; it seemed painful. Her eyes grew large behind her ridiculous glasses. Penny was about to ask her if she was all right, was about to reach out to her, when—

‘ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the own with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_ ’

‘Shit,’ Penny said. It clattered about her brain now, inescapable, the reason why she had been so skittish.

And then the magnitude came crashing upon her—the differences between her and Harry’s life, the Prophecy… Snape would never have heard it now, and nor would Dumbledore. Because of her. Penny knew from experience that Trelawney would never remember a thing; she had started blinking madly already to force herself out of the trance. This was the first opportunity Penny had had to truly alter the course of the war. She would not tell a soul.

Dumbledore returned, hovering a serving platter behind him. He frowned when he saw Trelawney’s confusion.

‘Are you quite all right?’ he asked her. Penny stared and put a lot of effort into not crying with relief.

She shook her head. ‘I believe so… I do have my odd turns. Something to do with the—uh—seeing. Nothing to worry about, Headmaster. Thank you.’

As Dumbledore began asking more questions concerning the teaching position with an increasingly defeated tone, Penny stared at nothing. Her Harry would no longer exist.

And if she gambled correctly… an even better life awaited him.

* * *

**Age 19—October 1980**

Penny held baby Harry as she sat opposite his parents. The bags under their eyes were deep and dark and she didn’t know if it was because of the baby or the world.

James’ hand rested on Lily’s knee. Her hands were twisted into fists.

‘We’re going into hiding,’ James said softly, older than his years. Lily looked down.

Penny nodded. ‘Yes, I know. I’ve been waiting.’ She had no guidance from her gift on the progression of matters, and was relying solely on Harry—her Harry’s—memories. Of course, he didn’t know much. She knew Pettigrew was a spy, she knew Regulus was going to plunge into a pit of Inferi soon enough… but would Reggie die in January or December? Just when had Lord Voldemort gotten to Pettigrew? She could not stake out every possibility, and could not lie in wait at the cave at every waking moment in a desperate attempt to save Regulus Black’s life when she had already seen him die. She had hope for him once, but the day she saw the Dark Mark on him was the day she knew his path was set.

Harry’s eyes blinked open and he stared at her unsteadily. He was confused; he had fallen asleep in his father’s arms and now long hair was tickling his forehead and cheeks.

‘Dumbledore’s suggested the Fidelius Charm for us,’ James said. Penny made a small noise of acknowledgment, still staring at her godchild. ‘We’ve been talking about the Secret Keeper for a while now; about who they should be.’

Penny knew it would be her; had seen herself bound by it at the age of thirteen. She didn’t know it was James and Lily’s secret she would be hiding, but could think of no alternative to her now. She was the obvious choice. She traced a fingertip on Harry’s smooth forehead.

‘We’ve chosen Peter.’ Lily said.

Penny’s steady breaths changed to a gasp. She had forgotten. She had nearly ruined everything—might still.

James’ palms turned face-up, looking pleadingly at her. He had clearly anticipated this. ‘Penny, I know you’ve never seen eye to eye with him—’

‘ _Him_! He’s about as powerful as a flobberworm! He’ll tell Voldemort where you are before an Unforgivable even crosses his lips!’

‘That’s not fair,’ said Lily. ‘He’s been James’ friend for years. He’s wonderful with Harry. And we thought you or Sirius would be too obvious…’

‘What about Remus, then?’ Lily and James both avoided her eyes.

‘My God.’ Penny said. Harry had begun to squirm so she placed him into the bassinet at the side of the sofa. He was mere months old and was dwarfed completely by the bed.

She turned back to them both, rage clouding her eyes. ‘Remus? Really? Are you stupid, James?’

‘I don’t think—we don’t really think he would—’

‘But he’s a werewolf, so surely the risk is higher, right? _Right_?’ They were lucky Harry was in the room. She would have been shouting so loud their ears would ring if he was upstairs. ‘Have you never considered why I might never have gotten along with Pettigrew? Me—the seer?’

James and Lily’s faces became the colour of milk. ‘You’ve always told us anything actually important…’ Lily said quietly.

‘ _You don’t know that_!’ Penny hissed. She thought of everything she knew and felt tears beading in her eyes. She had been idiotic, to allow something like this to happen under her nose when she was off looking for Horcruxes. Fate did not stop when her back was turned. The timeline was determined to repeat itself, and Penny had to be even more determined to stop it.

‘Penny, we couldn’t pick you or Sirius—you’re both so obvious, and who knows what secret stuff you’re going off and doing all the time? Does Dumbledore even know? Look—Peter’s the perfect bluff, you have to see that.’

‘Peter’s Animagus form is a RAT! Use your brain for once!’

‘How do you know—’

‘Never mind that!’ Penny looked over to Harry; luckily, he seemed undisturbed by her shout. Her hands were shaking. She sat down again opposite her brother and sister-in-law.

‘I have to be Secret Keeper.’ Penny said softly. ‘I’ve seen it. It’s going to happen anyway.’

‘What has Peter done?’ Lily asked.

‘Nothing, yet.’ Penny smiled humourlessly. James looked close to tears. ‘Don’t trust him. Please. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. It’s all going so quickly—’

James and Lily nodded and reassured her. They ignored the beading tears in her eyes and spoke of technicalities and other things. But the shadow of betrayal hung over them all.

When she was leaving, James drew her into a tight hug. ‘Penny… please stay safe. I don’t know what you’re up to out there, but just come back. Please. All right? I can’t… not so soon after mum and dad, okay? I love you. You’ve got to be around for Harry, too. He needs an Aunt that isn’t Lily’s horrible sister.’

‘I’ll let you know if I start having visions of my own Wake, yes.’ She rolled her eyes, but the effect was dampened somewhat by the crushing grief uniquely shared between siblings.

She did not go home. She went straight to Pettigrew’s and knocked until he came to the door. He was already sweating nervously.

‘Your mother doesn’t live here with you, does she?’ Penny said brightly as she forced herself over the threshold.

Pettigrew shook his head quickly. His lank hair swung around.

Penny sat down at the crumbling sofa next to the door. ‘I’d kill for a cup of tea actually, Peter, if you have it!’

He looked at her strangely for she had called him by his first name. But manners won out, and he began bustling about in his cramped kitchen. Penny saw him flitting back and forth through the doorframe.

‘What, uh, what brings you here?’ His voice was an octave higher than usual.

Penny lied and told him James asked her to check on how he was doing. ‘Ah—how is James?’ He asked as the kettle boiled.

‘He’s excellent,’ Penny said. ‘So are Lily and Harry.’

‘Of course, of course.’

He shuffled back with a tea tray. It was positioned so neurotically that Penny saw the influence of his famously deranged mother instantly. She clinked her teaspoon loudly as she stirred the water, watching him wince each time with huge satisfaction.

They tip-toed around five minutes of small talk. ‘Did you know—Sirius is to be James’ Secret Keeper.’ Pettigrew said. He relished it; for once, he was in on the joke.

‘Is he?’ Penny asked idly.

Pettigrew nodded. ‘Oh yes. Clear choice—him or you I would have said.’

‘Sugar please, Peter.’ Penny said. She was unnecessarily sharp, and the change clearly startled him. She didn’t care; with his right-hand stirring milk he handed her the sugar with his left. Just as planned.

Quick as a flash she grabbed his wrist rather than the sugar pot. He dropped it as he squealed, and the china shattered around them. Wand drawn, Penny flicked up Pettigrew’s sleeve and pressed the tip into his forearm. His watery eyes darted about; what a fool, she thought—he had left his wand in the kitchen.

Above her wand tip stretched a dark bruise of a tattoo. The forked tongue of the snake licked at her wand; the Dark Mark was clear as day.

Their eyes met.

‘Penny—’ Pettigrew started, but she stabbed her wand even more painfully into his arm. He whimpered; she knew her grip had to be agonising to one such as him.

‘Oh, Wormtail.’ Penny said with satisfaction. ‘Already, hm?’

His eyes widened in shock in the second before she stupefied him. Penny tried to feel some remorse, she really did. But it did not appear when she cast the Unplottable charms on his house. It did not appear when she blocked off the Floo network, or snapped his wand and banished the pieces. It did not even appear when she spent ten minutes muttering a complex ward on each door and window, to prevent even the smallest cockroach from leaving.

When she closed the door behind her, she hoped he lasted for as long as possible in there. She really did. Wartime was so unpredictable; sometimes you simply didn’t hear from your friends of family for months.

**Age 11—September 1972**

‘She’ll be in Gryffindor!’ James shouted the minute they passed through the barrier. Penny had crossed through with her mother and her tight, tight grip. Her owl, Mim, squawked.

‘Will I now?’ Penny narrowed her eyes at her brother. His smile faltered.

‘James,’ their father said sternly, steering him towards the train.

Moving in a huddle, they sought an empty compartment to the rear. The station was quiet at just gone ten o’clock; engineered so by their parents to alleviate the weight of eyes on her. Penny watched her father levitate her trunk into the storage compartment and wondered how on earth she was expected to get it back down again.

‘Oh Penny,’ he said with tears in his eyes. Both hands went to her shoulders and pulled her into a warm hug.

Without meaning to, Penny’s eyes began stinging as well. She was unsure why—she knew very well she would be perfectly fine this year excepting an unseasonal and aggressive cold around May.

‘Dad, I’ll be fine.’ She said as he pulled away.

‘Are you just trying to make me feel better, or do you mean it?’

‘I _mean_ it.’

Penny’s mother bustled in through the door. It seemed she had been having words with James; he looked sheepish and said nothing as he trailed after their mother. He wouldn’t meet Penny’s eye.

‘ _Darling_ —’ Penny was swept into another embrace, ‘—you’ll write to us every week, or even more if you need to, like James did—’

‘ _Didn’t_ ,’ James said moodily from the corner.

‘You’ll have the time of your life; enjoy every second. Stay _safe_ , pumpkin.’

Euphemia concentrated on her a little longer. She glanced to her husband, who started talking to James about the importance of homework.

‘If there is any trouble—’

‘Mum!’

‘— _If_ there is any, Penny—we’ve written to Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. They know about what happened and your gift. They know to listen to you in case you do come out with anything important.’

‘I don’t see how it will matter to them,’ Penny said grumpily, ‘I only see things to do with family anyway.’

‘You don’t know if it’ll develop,’ her mother insisted.

‘Euphie,’ came Penny’s father’s voice. When mother and daughter looked up, they saw him gesturing to the window. There were more people on the platform now.

‘Have fun.’ Her parents implored, giving her too-tight hugs. They kissed each child on the forehead and held them to their breasts sadly. James grumbled, but seemed happy—still, when the train began to pull away, only Penny waved enthusiastically out of the window.

‘I’ll miss them.’ Penny said to her brother. He was hanging out of the compartment door, watching for his friends.

‘Don’t worry, Pen. You’ll get used to it.’

She decided not to mention that she wasn’t really talking about homesickness or the few months they would now be spending apart.

* * *

**Age 18—December 1979**

It was Christmas Eve and she was in a cave.

Penny could not dwell on the nightmare of it; the horrible past-present-future mingling together in her head. She could only seek the cluster of the dead roiling about, throwing themselves to and fro as if they had never been human at all.

_Regulus…_

He was not visible. Nor was his elf. But he was surely where all the doomed were. Penny picked her way over to the water’s edge, conscious that she was not powerful like Lord Voldemort, that she was an averagely talented witch faced with endless dead.

Penny had been washing up. She had plunged her right hand into the soap, and then the water turned icy cold, biting, and her fingertips brushed another clammy hand. It was dark, so dark, and the only sense that really cut through was her smell. The rot was unforgivable.

The dish she was cleaning cracked but it didn’t matter, of course not—this was not the first time she had smelt that foulness. It was the lake and the inferi… and the hand was Regulus’.

Penny had never moved so quickly. Here she was, to fulfill the second part of a vision she didn’t even know she was a part of.

Blasts of fire erupted from her wand. Ungodly wailing rent the air as it spewed across the water. It was so black that the fire was mirrored; magnified so that even the heat seemed twofold. Penny stumbled on the wet rocks, slippery with the waves crashing around them. She could see a collection of the dead only feet from a protruding ledge. It festered.

Shuffling, her breaths were hard and fast. Penny threw herself onto her stomach and shot a jet of purple flame in front of her. She was sure her cheek had blistered from the proximity and she screamed—but it did not stop her from using the firelight to search in the blackness for any sign of Regulus.

There was nothing—the inferi were wailing, were moving away, but she could not see him. Penny plunged her hand into the ice so her nose nearly touched the water; her torso was dangling over the precipice; the rock edge was biting her hips—

Her forefinger touched something that didn’t activate an inherent revulsion in her hindbrain. Fingernails scratching at it for purchase, she clawed at it and drew it towards her—it was a forearm: whole, cold, clammy but alive.

She never knew how she hauled a grown man out of the water; she never knew how the inferi had granted them such a small reprieve as a single moment to leave them be. On reflection it might have been accidental magic, but she never found out as the more she thought of it later the more the smell settled on her skin and made her sick.

‘Regulus, Reg—’ she muttered his name over and over, trying to ignore the Dark Mark she had pulled him up with, trying to ignore the water-bloated face and the chunks gouged from his flesh. Penny hit him on the chest again and again until he coughed and burped water down his chin and his chest, eyes flying open in abject panic.

‘It’s me, it’s me!’ Penny shouted. ‘I got you out! Reg—oh—’

‘Kreacher—’ he croaked after several tries.

Penny smiled wetly. ‘He got out, he’s safe, he got the locket. Everything is okay, Reg, it’s all right—’

But it took a long time for his eyes to stop rolling about in fear and panic, and even longer for their breathing to settle into something a Healer wouldn’t throw a fit at.

‘I’m sorry.’ Penny said eventually into the quiet. Reggie looked up at her.

‘Why? You just saved me.’

‘I left you alone,’ Penny said quietly. ‘I saw the Mark and you had to do it all by yourself. I could have helped you, I knew you would be here, but I knew and I didn’t do anything—’

‘I think you did rather a lot, actually.’

‘I knew this would happen before we met.’ Reggie’s eyes bored into hers even though she avoided his gaze. ‘I knew and I thought I could change it and then I saw you joining _him_ and just gave you up because I didn’t want to deal with losing you after all that… but you didn’t have to do it alone at all because you’re still alive, and—’

‘Penny, I joined the Dark Lord and I have this stain on me forever because of it.’ He jerked his left arm violently, a disgusted expression twisting his face. ‘If you feel guilty for all that then I have ten times the reason to be even guiltier for just that. I was a coward—no, I was—but I tried to do the right thing and… I think that’s all we can do, in the end. Try.’

They both sniffled for a few minutes. Regulus was injured and would need to be secreted off somewhere to be healed. Penny hadn’t even thought to bring Dittany. Perhaps he could camp out at James and Lily’s… he would have to be in hiding too, now.

Penny thought of the strange friendship they had forged at school; of how they ignored each other until they happened to cross paths alone or without his Slytherin friends there. He had stopped people staring at her, and she had stopped people jinxing Slytherins in lessons. They had a strange not-there friendship and she missed it because it had worked so very well.

‘We destroy the Diary the day before I turn twenty.’ Penny told Reggie after terrible Christmas dinner at her empty childhood home the next day. He stared at her with bright, round eyes as she remembered the vision of him wrenching open its clear pages in front of her she had had in the night. The wind would whip at their faces on a tiny, rocky island just out of sight of the shore, where she (he) had once found out about magic from a kindly half-giant. Penny startled awake just as the Fiendfyre sprouted from the end of her wand.

Penny’s mind turned to the Prophecy from all those years ago and smiled. ‘I think we’ll be finished, then. And so will he—for good.’

‘What Diary?’ Reggie asked with a frown over half-raw sprouts.

A deep laugh that came from her stomach. ‘Oh dear, Reg. He’s made five.’

It was cruel, how much harder she laughed at the look on his face. Perhaps it was the hysteria of the situation; perhaps she was going mad like seers apparently did. But she knew that all would be well. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a massive labour of love. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
> 
> (For any who may have come from Back and Blue, this may have been what caused the update delay — but it’ll be out soon. Sorry!)


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